


Seeking thrills

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Belly, Belly Kink, Belly Kissing, Belly Rubs, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hannah wants to play new games, Incest, Knife Play, Knifeplay, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Puberty, Sexual Experimentation, Tie Kink, Volmer gets tied up again, belly licking, belly play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:17:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn
Summary: Hannah seeks out new thrills.Volmer is happy to oblige.





	Seeking thrills

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't like the original one, so I re-wrote.  
> I think this is better.

“Could we . . . play?” Hannah asks shyly. Her finger draws circles around Dr. Volmer’s navel. 

“The doctor game again?” the good doctor asks, pressing the girl’s hand flat on his belly in sweet anticipation. They’re in Hannah’s room. The girl’s head rests comfortably against his shoulder. 

“Not a doctor game, a different game,” the girl whispers, hiding behind her hair. “A knife game.”

“A knife game?” Dr. Volmer asks, slightly worried. “Knives are sharp, Hannah; they can be very dangerous.” He frowns, forcing the girl to look at him. “You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” 

Hannah squirms, shaking her head. Her fingertips brush softly against the blue linen of his shirt. “I would use a blunt knife,” she offers. “A letter opener.”

It sound a little too planned out from Volmer’s taste; the namely object rests already on her nightstand. 

“Why do you want to play a knife game?” the doctor asks, making a mental note to check what sort of material the girl has access to. Some of the guests bring books, tablets, cell phones. Surely this cannot be something that has come out of her own head. . .

Hannah does not reply. She squirms a little more. Her hips press deliciously against Volmer’s thigh. 

“I just want to,” she tells silently. 

So this was just about seeking new thrills, then, Volmer recons, considering. If seeing a blunt knife slide over his unprotected stomach is enough to make Hannah’s pussy tingle, he’s up for it. He can do as much for her. After all, they have re-found their friendship so short while ago. . .

“Very well,” he agrees, his mouth twitching. “Let me have a better look at the knife.”

Hannah obliges, placing the thin, slightly curved blade into his waiting hand. It appears blunt enough, Volmer supposes: With no sharp edges to cut him with, not easily, at least. 

“Will you be careful, Hannah?” the good doctor asks, looking at the girl under his brow. She looks back at him, eyes dark, cheeks glowing. . .

“I promise I will,” she whispers, lowering her gaze. “I want to tie up your hands.” 

“I think not,” the doctor tells, stopping the hand that has been toying with his belt buckle. The memory of the doctor game is still too fresh on his mind; he cannot risk Hannah becoming too excited with a letter opener. 

The girl rubs his belly, most teasingly. The base of her hand presses against the soft part of his lower stomach. “Please Heinreich. . . I promise to be gentle. . .” 

Dr. Volmer arches his back, fighting his arousal. He likes it when the girl says his name. 

“Very well,” he breathes, lips quirking up in anticipation, “But just one hand.” 

Hannah agrees to his terms, opening his belt with slightly fumbling fingers. She ties one of his hands to the bedpost. The other Volmer keeps resting on his belly. 

“Could you. . . put your other hand to the pillow?” Hannah asks. 

Volmer does. He’s giddy, slightly nervous. Hannah’s already opening his shirt. 

She exposes him, parting the blue fabric. She yanks the waistline of his trousers a little lower. To have all of his stomach in her access. 

Volmer breathes faster with the gesture, leaning his head back. He fights a grin. 

“H-Hannah. . .” 

Hannah takes a seat on his thighs. Her hands land on his belly, cool, gentle, eager.

She starts from his exact middle, rubbing soothing, gentle circles. Occasionally she spreads her finger wide, adding a little bit of pressure. 

Volmer gasps softly, his hips rise slightly from the mattress. He likes this, the teasing, the gentle touches. The girl’s driving him insane. 

Hannah whimpers silently with the gesture, correcting her posture. The inside of her thigh presses against his erection. 

Her hands travel down his body, on his ribcage, down his chest, stopping to tease the small bump at his lower stomach. Volmer cannot get rid of it too soon; he’s getting soft and does not like himself that way —even though Hannah’s sweet hands provide him with delicious sensations as the girl bakes him, sinking her fingers into the soft flesh, teasing him, pinching him. . .

“Don’t make me wait any longer, Hannah,” he whispers. 

And the girl picks up the letter opener. 

She starts from his chest, gentle, careful, touching a nipple. The feel of cold metal is enough to force out a tiny gasp from Volmer’s lips. 

Hannah slides the blade down, slowly, gently, barely touching his skin. The letter opener slides over his ribcage light as a feather.

She stops to draw circles around his navel for a moment, teasingly, experimentally, and presses the tip of the blade into his navel. 

Volmer gasps louder as Hannah adds a little bit of pressure, arching his back. 

And Hannah twists the blade, ever so lightly.

The feeling is a pure mix of pain and pleasure; the sweet burning agony of his delayed pleasure, pooling in the pit of his lower stomach. 

Dear god, he never knew he could like this so much. . .

And he moans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. 

Hannah makes a sound, taking support from his side as she slides the blade lower; out of his navel and down the length of his lower belly, all the way to the waistline of his trousers. 

She teases him there, running the blade over his bump, the softest part of his belly, pressing. 

The blade cuts into his skin, sweetly, threateningly, giving Volmer all kinds of delicious feelings. 

He dares barely breathe as Hannah draws half circle around the bump, the soft tiny swell of his lower stomach, sliding the blade from hip bone to hip bone. 

“Hannah. . .” He draws a vibrating hiss of breath, closing his eyes. His free hand squeezes the pillow in fear of grabbing the girl. He does not want to provoke her, not to drive her into anything they both would come to regret later. . .

Hannah presses the knife tighter against his stomach, whimpering. 

The tip lands on the small swell, the tiny bump of his tender, unprotected belly. And Hannah presses. 

The tip digs into his skin, nearly sinking into the swell. 

Volmer gasps, gritting his teeth in a mix of pain and pleasure. The girl was going draw blood soon. The tip would sink into his belly like knife in butter. 

“Careful Hannah, oh be careful . . . you’re hurting me. You said you didn’t want to hurt me. . .” 

She shifts, releasing pressure. She lowers the knife back on the nightstand. 

“No I don’t want to hurt you. . . I could never to hurt you,” she whispers, rubbing the red pressure mark on his stomach. 

“I could never scar your perfect body. . .”

Her lips land on his stomach unexpectedly, greedily. Her hands rub his chest as her tongue touches the small red mark —and she nibbles him, there, right where he’s the softest. 

Volmer gasps in pained arousal. The leather belt cuts into his wrist. 

“H-Hannah. . . Oh dear god Hannah!”

She kisses the spot she’s bitten, caringly, almost apologetically, till she trails up again. Her lips and tongue are a sweet hot torment on his skin. 

It is too much. The feeling’s too sweet. 

Volmer yanks her up with his free hand, claiming her mouth. 

And Hannah answers to his kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in her mouth. 

Her hands explore his body, shy, hesitant, but so very needy. . .

She squirms against his body, trying to press against his hard throbbing cock. 

Volmer’s close. Too close. He does not want it end till Hannah’s gotten her pleasure. He loves to see it, to watch Hannah come. The red cheeks, the dark eyes, the confused look upon her lovely face afterwards. 

He yanks her closer with his free hand, guiding her to the right spot. 

“Oh There, there, there . . . roll your hips Hannah. Roll your—” 

She does, deeply, feverishly, crushing her crotch against his cock with despaired manner. 

And she gasps, surprised, shivering, taking support from his chest. 

And Volmer goes over the edge. 

He’s spent, exhausted, happy. 

Hannah looks down at him, her cheeks very red, her lovely lips slightly parted. 

Dr. Volmer smiles at her, but does not speak a word. He thinks it is for the best, if he allows Hannah to understand the new sensations on her own.


End file.
